Gambling On a Heart (28 page)

Logan simply smiled at Tracy as he set Mandy on her feet again. “Tracy, I’ll be in touch before we go to court Friday.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Without even acknowledging Jake, he kissed Mandy on the forehead, and walked away with his hands in the pockets of his designer suit pants.

Bobby rushed forward, and the two kids headed off toward the bleachers, chattering up a storm about what they would do once they got back to the ranch.

Tracy made sure they were out of earshot, then fisted her hands until her nails bit into her palms, and glared at him. “You bastard. You know nothing has ever happened between Logan and me.”

He shrugged and leaned forward. “Maybe not, but I know someone who would believe it had. You do have a reputation of being a cheater, after all. Remember what I said, Tracy. I don’t want Zack Cartwright anywhere near my son. You got it?”

“You can’t dictate to me. And you only have a trumped up account that can’t ever hold any credence in court. Zack is a good man, and a respected member of this community. And no one in this town would ever call Zack a bad father.”

He snorted and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “I know for a fact, Zack Cartwright has a temper and a mean streak. He didn’t want me to succeed in football, so he made sure I’d never be able to play again. No one but him and I were out on the trail that day. It would be my word against his. I’ve also heard he and his wife had a fight before she left the house during a snowstorm. Then she was hit head-on by a drunk driver. The story goes that Zack was passed out on the floor when his sister-in-law found him to deliver the news.” Jake’s smirk broadened as he added, “Interestingly, his in-laws gave him an ultimatum–either stop drinking or they were taking Amanda away. He moved to Texas right after that and hasn’t been back once in two years. Who knows if he’s stopped drinking or not. He puts on that holier-than-thou show when he’s in public, but he’s admitted he hasn’t completely stopped drinking.”

She wasn’t playing into his mind game. “Good night, Jake.” She turned away and then faced him again. “Oh, by the way, I’m no longer bound to you in any way. Logan just informed me that he put the paperwork in for my name-change. It was time to get rid of that last bit of garbage. I’ve toted it around long enough. Good riddance.”

She spun away, squared her shoulders, and headed to round up the kids.

* * * *

“Lucinda Tritt?” Zack asked as he approached the clerk at the counter of the convenience store of a Texaco station in Stephenville.

The clerk pushed her thick glasses up on her nose and looked from Zack to Wyatt and back again. “That’s me.”

Zack guessed the woman to be about forty-five as he and Wyatt held out their identifications. “I’m Sheriff Zachery Cartwright of Forest County and this is Lieutenant Wyatt McPherson of the Texas Rangers. We understand you were working Saturday morning when two livestock trucks rolled in here.” He opened a small notebook to take notes. “We need you to tell us everything you can remember about the drivers.”

She gave Zack a small smile and pushed a mass of frizzy gray-shot brown hair from her face. “There ain’t much to tell.” She shrugged and looked at Wyatt. “Two trucks drove up. A guy got out of the first one and came in around four in the morning.”

“Can you describe him and tell us what he bought?” Wyatt prompted when she paused.

“He was a big guy–not tall, but heavy-set, stocky. His hair was long and dark.” Lucinda pushed at her own hair as she remembered. “He got a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a bag of potato chips. And two candy bars, I think. Oh, and a First Aid kit and a bottle of Motrin.”

Wyatt asked, “Did you see the other men at all?”

The clerk shook her head. “They parked out past the light. I couldn’t see much except that they were livestock trucks.”

“Do you know if the trucks were carrying animals?” Zack finished jotting down her descriptions.

She puckered her brow as if that would help her memory. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I heard horses.”

Zack smiled and put the notebook into his back jeans pocket. “Thank you, Miz Tritt, for your cooperation. We’ll get in touch if we need to talk to you again.”

She smiled, nodded, and headed back to work. “Wait.” She turned toward them. “I did see one of the guys when they drove past. He was a passenger in the first truck. I think I could recognize a picture of him, too.”

Wyatt grinned and held out his hand for her to shake. “Thanks, ma’am. You’ve been a lot of help.”

The manager of the store stepped forward and held out a CD to Wyatt. “Here are those security tapes from the other night. So, you think these guys are cattle rustlers?”

Zack smiled inwardly. Stephenville was nearly a hundred miles west of Colton, but the thefts had gotten a mention on the evening news after the rustling at Oak Springs Ranch. The media considered it a way to keep the prominent Ferguson-Quinn clan in the news. Not to mention making light of the sheriff falling victim to the thieves again on the eleven o’clock report.

“There’s a possibility they are connected,” Zack said.

“Well, I hope you catch ’em. My uncle had cattle stolen from him years ago, and it about broke him. You gentlemen have a good night.”

Wyatt looked at Zack and smiled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Zack opened the front door. “Yeah. Let’s get back to Colton. I suddenly have a hankering to watch TV.”

* * * *

The sun rode high on the eastern horizon as Zack drove through the elaborate wrought iron gate of Oak Springs. He drove over the concrete bridge spanning the creek and looked around the manicured front lawn. Everything about the place reeked of money. The Cartwrights were as rich as the Fergusons, but his family never flaunted their wealth the way Tracy’s family had. That wasn’t exactly true. It hadn’t been her entire family, but Jason Ferguson’s second wife and her son, Leon.

He stopped by the garage and got out of the truck. He hadn’t been this tired since his early days in the mountains of Afghanistan as a new Marine.

After speaking to the clerk at the Texaco, Zack and Wyatt came back to the office to watch the surveillance footage. Unfortunately, the man’s face wasn’t visible in the grainy black and white frames. The cameras were angled all wrong or set too high. He also had worn a wide brimmed hat.

Now, he had to hope the thief had DNA on file. However, he still had no idea who the other men in the trucks were. Nor could the authorities prove Zack’s horse theft was connected to the cattle rustling. As he knew, with police work nothing was ever cut and dry. Often one clue only answered half the riddle and produced a whole slew of other possibilities and questions.

With a sigh, he rang Tracy’s doorbell and waited. When the door opened, he expected to find an anxious Mandy. She would be late for school at this rate. Instead, Tracy stood there looking beyond great in a pair of jeans shorts and a t-shirt with a large flower over her chest.

“Hey.” He pulled his hat from his head.

“Come in.” Tracy moved away from the door and smiled. “I have coffee on. You look like you need some.”

“I do, but I have to get Mandy to school. Then I’m going home and crashing for a long, long time.” He looked around. Where was the little tornado?

Tracy clasped her hands before her. “When you were so late, I decided to take her to school. The principal had a fit because I wasn’t on her pickup list, and I tried to explain I wasn’t picking her up, but dropping her off. I swear sometimes Mrs. Longoria takes the rules a little overboard.”

He reached out and pulled her to him. Her surprised gasp as she came up against him brought a chuckle from his throat, which ended on a groan as his lips touched hers. She opened under his questing tongue as he drank her in.

She moaned and threaded her fingers into his hair. The need for air forced them apart, and they gasped for oxygen. He held her to him and rested his forehead on hers.

“Good morning to you, too.” Her voice was a sexy purr that had him wishing he could strip her and have his way with her.

“It is now. Thank you for taking care of Mandy. I’ll have to make sure Mrs. Longoria knows it was alright for you to bring Mandy to school. I was worried she’d be late.”

She moved away, but took his hand. “C’mon, I have fresh coffee, and I can make you something to eat. Melissa can open the shop.”

He stopped short when they entered the kitchen at the end of the entrance hall. The other night when he’d been here, the kitchen had seemed so sterile. This morning, bits of multi-colored construction paper, crayons and markers covered the table and artwork that could have come from only Mandy decorated the refrigerator. As Tracy headed for the coffee maker by the sink, he went to the stainless steel door and stared at the homemade frame around a picture of Mandy. Her hair cut in a style similar to Tracy’s with bangs and her face framed by long dark locks.

“I want you to know I loved having Mandy. We had so much fun.”

He glanced up from the picture to Tracy.

She held two mugs of coffee and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. I got my digital camera out and took pictures of her and Bobby last night. Then this morning she wanted to make frames for the pictures. You’ll be getting one tonight. I put it in her book bag. Oh, and I helped her study for her spelling test.”

His throat swelled shut. He hadn’t even given her homework a thought. Before he could speak, he had to swallow down the lump. “Thanks for helping her. I guess this is her first spelling test.”

“Yeah. She’s a smart little girl, so she caught on quick. Bobby has a test today, too. I made a game of it and they studied together. It was a hoot, her trying to spell his words.”

He looked down at the photo with its gaudy frame of pink and blue construction paper and crayon-colored purple flowers. “I like her hair. It’s cut just like yours.”

Tracy glanced down at the coffee mugs in her hands. “She wanted it like mine, so that’s what I did.”

“I like it.”

“I’m glad.” She looked up with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, so damned unsure of herself.

After a moment, she said, “Let me make you some eggs and bacon. I’m not much of a cook. I’ll admit that right now. But I can fry eggs and bacon.”

He put the paper frame back under its magnet on the fridge door and grinned as he took the cup she held out to him. He’d let her take care of him, just this once. “That sounds good. I’m starving.”

Forty minutes later, he’d devoured his breakfast and drank a half a pot of coffee loaded with sugar. The two excited Yorkies had come in from outside, yipped themselves out over his arrival, and now lay in the sunlight by the French doors. Tracy had to get going to her shop, and he had to go home and sleep, but neither of them wanted to leave the kitchen.

She set her cup on the countertop of the bar. “Wow. I just thought of something.”

He chuckled and arched a brow. “And we blondes are the brunt of all the jokes.”

She poked him in the side with her elbow. “If I ever hear a blonde joke about a ditsy blond
guy
, I’ll make sure I remember to tell you about it. But what I meant was today I can officially start calling myself by my maiden name again.”

“You had your name changed?”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you.” She tilted her head and looked at him. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and the sun shining through the windows picked out the highlights she’d added to her brown hair. “When I talked to Logan about taking on my case, I asked him to file the paperwork to change my name. I guess it’s not official–I don’t have the documents from the state and Social Security office yet–but he said I could start using Quinn again. I can’t believe he was able to get it done this fast.”

He glanced away before he lost something to her he could never give her, and finished his coffee. “My little brother is a good lawyer.”

“Well, I’m not really sure why I ever kept Parker. I told everyone it was because of Bobby, but I don’t think it was really for him.”

“Sentimentality makes us do strange things.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Trust me, Zack, there is nothing about Jake Parker that I’m sentimental about. I haven’t even kept a single wedding picture. So, my keeping his name was really a joke–on me.”

He studied her with his breath caught in his throat. “What do you mean, you didn’t keep any wedding pictures?”

She met his gaze again and shrugged. “I burnt them.” She sipped her coffee, and instead of explaining more, she shook her head. “Did you find anything out last night?”